


Why Don’t We Try?

by happy_lettuce_leaf



Series: Tony stark is an actual father [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Gen, Insomnia, Peter Parker Angst, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 18:36:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19818166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happy_lettuce_leaf/pseuds/happy_lettuce_leaf
Summary: Peter Parker knew he was slipping.Tony did too, and he comes to help our poor bean cope.Basically Tony helping Peter with his anxiety and being a Good Dad about it.





	Why Don’t We Try?

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings for anxiety and depression. Literally this whole fic is about Peter and his Anxiety, so please stay safe <3
> 
> Also cussing.
> 
> I needed to write this because endgame hurt and I’m not over it.

Peter knew he was slipping. 

At first he didn’t see the decline, but when did anyone see it at the beginning? Once it started picking up, he knew he had a problem. 

It all started with the nightmares, which began occurring about two weeks after the vulture incident. He had thought he was doing well, and then one night, as he was sleeping, he saw the fire and the concrete on top of him. Saw the exploding wings and the water that had almost drowned him. 

He had jerked awake, then easily dismissed it as a one time thing. It probably wouldn’t happen again. 

Except it did, again and again, and Peter really wasn’t prepared for them, really didn’t know what to do with them, so he didn’t do anything. He lay in bed at night fighting sleep, wishing they would just go away.

They didn’t. 

Instead, they grew into more gruesome sicarios. Then those grew into something more. 

The first time Peter had a panic attack he was alone in his room, doing homework. May had burnt the date loaf, and when the smell of burning hit Peter’s nose, it sent him into a full on panic attack. 

He didn’t tell anyone. How could he? How could he face the fact that maybe he wasn’t strong enough to go back out and defeat someone else? He knew about things like PTSD and always supported the people forced to have that condition, always referring to them as strong. But Peter didn’t feel strong. He felt weaker then he ever had, and that scared him. 

He considered going to someone, asking for help because Jesus fuck did he need it. 

But how do you tell someone about everything that closes in all at once and the thoughts that won’t go away and the burden that sits in his chest and the exhaustion that seemed to make itself perfectly comfortable on Peter’s eyes? How do you tell someone that you are struggling that much? May wouldn’t understand. Ned would flip out. Happy wouldn’t even care and Mr. Stark…..

Let’s just not talk about him. 

Tony had been taking him for lab days at least once a week, and each week Peter had to amp up his effort to hide everything. Tony had a sense of just knowing when something was off with Peter, which made it even harder to try and conceal the exhaustion and the struggle. All Peter wanted to do was curled up in Tony’s arms and cry and spill out everything, but he knew he didn’t have the strength to. Didn’t have the bravery to let anyone in. 

So he suffered silently. 

But then, of course, anxiety felt obligated to bring other things to the party, too. Like depression. 

He didn’t recognise it at first, but no one does at the beginning. All he knew was that one day he had an empty hole inside him that he could not fill no matter how hard he tried. He immersed himself in school, in patrol, trying to forget the triggers and the panic and the everything. 

It wasn’t working. When he talked it was like someone else was talking for him, so he stopped talking as much. When he laughed it sounded fake and forced. So he didn’t laugh.

The panic attacks and nightmares made him tired everywhere he went, and the weight on his chest didn’t make it any easier to complete the simplest of tasks. Patrolling was an absolute nightmare, as his reaction time was so slow he could barely keep up with the enemy. 

Tony was suspicious. He knew something was up, but didn’t know what or how to ask. Peter really didn’t blame him. Lab days felt like a sanctuary, like the only place he could be without something reminding him of the vulture or of the empty. Tony’s comments and ideas and energy made him want to cry because he was so happy. 

Happiness was starting to become foreign, and he knew he should talk to tony. He just couldn’t figure out how. 

He told himself he was going to tell Tony this coming lab day, but he never did, chickening out just when his mouth opened. Tony looked at him oddly, but didn’t comment, which made Peter surprisingly grateful. Everyone was starting to notice Peter’s decline and asking his if he was okay. Peter said yes every single time. 

Things were getting worse, it was a vicious cycle peter couldn’t seem to get out of. But he forced himself to keep going. To keep patrolling. Afterall, that’s all he was really good for. Saving people was all that mattered. It didn’t matter if a piece of shit like him couldn't get an A on an assignment anymore. 

It all came crashing down one week. It was summer, and lets just say Peter’s final grades had not been the best. However, part of him knew that Grades had kept him busy, and with nothing to occupy him, his health decreased even more. He couldn’t get out of bed, couldn’t bring himself to eat like a normal person eats, because food just made him want to throw up now. 

May was out of town so Peter had next to no motivation to do anything, whatsoever. Lab Day with Tony was on Friday, so Peter had…. What day was it? He checked his phone. It was wednesday. He didn’t know it was wednesday. 

He laid there for who knows how long, then he found himself immersed in the darkness of night, sleepless. He was exhausted, even though he hadn’t done anything. All he felt was empty.

There was a knock at the door, but Peter didn’t make any move to get up, and everything was pressing in, and god, he was so fucked up. Tears slipped out of his eyes and before he knew it he was sobbing, crying desperately into his blankets, and didn’t even care that someone had opened the door. He didn’t even care who they were, as long as they could get him away from this emptiness-

“Peter? Oh God, kid-” he knew that voice. 

“Mr. Stark?” he slurred as two arms grabbed him, and then he was crying into Tony, Tony, his Tony.

“Peter, shh, it's okay Peter. I’m going to get you out, okay? You don't have to feel like this anymore.”

And his words were so comforting, so soothing, that peter started to blurt out everything that had been going on. Tony listened patiently, never once interrupting him, letting him spill out the mess that he had been holding in. Tony said he didn’t have to feel like this, and he trusted Tony, so he didn't have to feel like this. Peter let himself hope, for just a minute, that this feeling could go away, that he didn't have to feel this empty. Tony would help him. 

“Tony? Am- am I going to feel this way forever? Can you make it go away?” he asked, his voice weak and slurring from exhaustion. Tony sighed.

“You are not going to feel this forever. There are going to be tough days and easy days, but we are going to work through them, you hear me? We’re going to get you out of this.”

Peter practically melted against Tony in relief, sobbing and clutching his shirt. Tony rocked them back and forth, holding onto peter tightly as if he might drift away. 

“I just feel like in letting everyone down and the nightmares are getting worse and I can't get out of bed and i don't know what to do and I can't get out, dad, help me i can't-”

“Hey, hey. You’re okay, i got you. Tony’s here, Dad’s here, you’re safe, okay? You’re safe. I’m here.”

Peter didn't realize he had called Tony dad until Tony repeated it back to him. A strange warmth settled in his chest, a warmth that hadn’t been there for a long time. Peter started calming down, and he suddenly felt better. Not largely, everything-will-be-okay kind of better, but microscopically better, like one day he might just believe things can get better. 

“Come on, up kid, it's time to make some pancakes and hot chocolate,” he said, offering a hand to Peter, who started moving slowly. He stumbled a little, but Tony put Peter’s arm around his shoulders to help him. They made their way to the kitchen, Peter stumbling from lack of food and sleep. Tony sat peter down on a kitchen chair, then rummaged around the cabinets until he found what he was looking for.

“So, kid, you want to hear the plan?” he asked softly, coming over and sitting on the counter, whisking the batter. Peter nodded, feeling his whole body start to shake. 

“Step one: you are going to talk to me about everything. How long this has been happening, what you can and can’t do, what your triggers are, etcetera,” Tony said, waving his hand and making it sound like it was nothing. The downplayment helped Peter’s mouth to start moving.

“So, um, the nightmares are where it started. Two weeks after the- after the vulture-” 

Peter forced himself to breathe. Tony was right there. Tony was going to help him cope with it. He didn’t even notice as Tony walked over, only looking up when he put strong arm on Peter’s shoulder. He took a deep breath, then continued.

“And then came the panic attacks, too, randomly, wherever I went. I-I kept hoping they would go away, but they didn’t-” Tony wrapped his arms around Peter, who was crying heavily again. There was some silence as Peter tried to catch his breath. 

“You don’t have to keep going. We can talk about it when you’re feeling a bit better. Would you like to hear step two, or are you not ready?” the gentle way Tony asked made him hold on to the genius a little tighter. 

“I- I can hear, um, I c-c-can hear step two.” Tony never stopped holding Peter as he said,

“I am going to hook you up with the therapist I go to. She is amazing. Absolutely slaps you with truth.”

“You go to a therapist?” Peter asked sheepishly, hopefully. 

“Yeah kid, and it has done amazing things to help me. She’ll help you too. I trust her with your identity, and I know she can help you move past all of this. You don’t have to answer now-”

“I’ll go,” Peter said, looking up at Tony with shining eyes. Whatever Peter needed to do to get rid of the empty, he would do. Tony smiled at him, then started cooking the pancakes in a skillet. 

“I’m proud of you, kid,” Tony told him, looking over at peter and smiling at him, a rare smile of joy and pride. Peter felt a rush of gratitude.

“What’s step three?” he asked. 

“Can I ask a question?” Tony asked. Peter nodded. “What’s May’s work schedule?” 

Peter stuttered a little before replying, “she’s gone when I get ready for school, and is home for about an hour before she goes to work the graveyard shift. It’s kind of complicated, but she doesn’t work on the weekends.” 

Tony nodded and thought. He continued flipping pancakes, then got out some plates to put them on. 

“You know, I have a lot of space at the compound. Mina, the therapist, works there for SI, helping enhanced individuals like you deal with trauma. Vision is there, so is Pepper and sometimes Rhodey. Your aunt can stay, too, if you want. I have private jets so she can still work if she wants to. She doesn’t even have to. I can cover everything. That is, I mean, if you want it, but, I mean. You probably don’t. I know it’s a big adjustment and -”

“Tony,” Peter interrupted with a smile as Tony’s words became less “plan” and more “ramble”. 

“Its okay. I’m sure May would love that. I’ll talk to her.” 

Tony let out a visible sigh of relief. 

“Okay, cool. That was step three. Cool. step four. We talk to May.”

Peter flinched and immediately stood up, which was a big mistake. His vision got fuzzy and dizziness washed over him. He swayed and almost fell, but Tony’s arms caught him and lowered him back down.

“Hey, hey, we’re all good. I’m not going to tell her until we talk about it first. We’ll get it sorted out,” Tony said reassuringly, and Peter wanted to believe him. So he did.

“Here you go,” Tony said, handing him a stack of pancakes. Peter took them and suddenly realized how hungary he was. He wolfed down the first one, but when he reached the second, he suddenly felt sick. 

“Tony?” he asked. Tony hummed, then sat on the counter.

“This- this is kind of weird but- like- I can't eat a lot now because I feel sick. Like i want to throw up if I take another bite.” Peter grimaced and waited for sounds of disgust, knowing that this wasn't normal, he wasn't normal, god, why did he have to tell Tony? Why couldn’t he have just eaten the food? Fuck, he was such a-

“Okay, then let’s not take another bite,” he said. Peter looked at him in surprise.

“You mean- it okay?” he asked, childish hope tainted his voice. Tony nodded.

“Yeah, we can work on that too. Everything you’re feeling right now is okay, and we can take care of it.” Tony took the plate from peter’s hands, and Peter sighed in relief. He was okay. He was going to be okay. 

Tony helped him up and walked him over to the couch. They both sat down and Peter dared to come closer to tony, relishing the way Tony put his arm around Peter. Tony picked up the TV remote soundlessly.

“What do you want to watch?” he asked Peter mildly.Peter shrugged.

“Anything is good with me,” he said, and Tony chose Star Wars: The Last Jedi. Peter smiled at Tony’s choice and leaned against him. 

Soon it was halfway through the movie and Peter was fighting sleep for what felt like the millionth time. Tony caught on to what he was doing. So about the fifth time Peter forced himself to jerk awake, Tony laid his arm, which was previously on the couch, on Peter’s shoulder and rubbed it gently.

“I’ll be here when you wake up. You can sleep. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Soon after, Peter let himself relax, and was asleep within seconds.

He found he wasn’t so worried about nightmares anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please give some feedback if you have any. I love tips to be a better writer. 
> 
> I accept prompt requests.


End file.
